


A Day in the Life of the Ponds

by jesterlady



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, One Shot, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesterlady/pseuds/jesterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tribute to the awesomeness that is the trio of Rory Williams, Amy Pond, and the Eleventh Doctor.  A typical day for them aboard the Tardis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day in the Life of the Ponds

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

It would be practically impossible to understand life traveling on an alien time machine. Even if one could understand the mechanics of it, they would be very likely to misconstrue the running bits and the saving the universe as the vast majority of what time spent on one was like. Which, to be fair, is likely true. Yet, well, it’s all a bit mundane sometimes. Or normal. Or just life.

Like today for instance when Rory and Amy woke up not, thankfully, in bunk beds. Rory stretched and opened his eyes, seeing the absolute best thing he ever saw, the form of his wife. She was a mess with her hair sticking up everywhere and a little bit of drool coming out of her mouth, her bare shoulder giving him quite fond memories of the night before. He budged over and kissed that bare shoulder, getting a sleep-induced whack for his pains. Satisfied that their morning ritual had been fulfilled, Rory got out of bed and put his robe on.

“Time to get up, Amy.”

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled into her pillow. 

He shook her slightly and then stood back on reflex, having been subject to more than a few bruises from the not-a-morning-person Amy Pond.

Amy sat straight up and glared at him, not feeling at all charitable. She’d been having quite the lovely dream involving a beach, Rory dressed like a cabana boy, and some rather interesting alien customs. For a moment she was quite confused – naturally, seeing as how that had actually happened the week before – about whether or not this was a dream, reality, or a re-enactment of some kind.

“Can’t you sleep in at all?” she asked, grumpily getting out of bed and adorning herself in her own lounge attire and muttering about the annoyances of plastic/Roman habits.

“Nope,” he said, way too perkily, probably for him, her, and the rest of the universe, but he had a bad habit of being perky and they both knew it was solidly in defense of her decided un-perkiness and, thus, not his fault.

“I’m hungry,” she groaned. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Should we try and find the Doctor?”

“I’m sure he’ll show up somewhere on this blasted ship,” Amy griped. 

Rory winced at the walls, but the Tardis seemed to have developed an understanding of Amy’s personality in the mornings and nothing disastrous happened.

They shuffled their way to the kitchen, getting lost three times on the way, so maybe the Tardis was getting her revenge after all. Upon entering it they found an absolute avalanche of a mess indicating pretty reliably that the Doctor had been there already that morning.

“What on earth?” Amy asked, pushing Rory in ahead of her just in case there was anything alive and carnivorous.

Rory was less appreciative of this gesture than she would have hoped, but just as obviously used to it. He picked his way gingerly through mountains of eggshells, some sticky substances, pots and kettles and cardboard, as well as what looked like a human sized blanc mange.

“I guess it’s fend-for-yourself day in the Tardis,” he pronounced after making a circuit of the room and declaring it safe.

“So just a normal day then,” Amy said, sitting down at the table.

Rory got them breakfast, just something simple like scrambled eggs. There were many other things in that kitchen, but he was usually too afraid to try any of them for fear they contained things lethal to humans that the Doctor had simply forgotten to warn them about. Amy, knowing this to be true, usually didn’t comment on his uninventive cooking initiative.

After they’d eaten, Rory washed their dishes while Amy dried them, having become a much more exact approximation of a human being after having eaten. This still left the kitchen looking like a monsoon had swept through a dairy farm but they’d both learned long ago to not mess with the Doctor’s messes.

Getting dressed and arguing over the use of the bathroom was another normal routine they went through even though their bathroom was huge and could easily have fit a small apartment inside it. It just seemed to be something they couldn’t get over. A married people thing to do.

But once they were ready for the day they left for the console room, following the sounds of loud shouting and – Rory informed Amy – some rather inventive swearing in Latin. 

“Ah, there you two are, having a lie-in as per usual. Why I take you around with me and offer you the wonders of the universe I’ll never know. Still, it’s good you did because the Tardis won’t do anything I ask her to today, being not sexy at all at the moment, and I’ve got loads of repairs to do. So you’re going to have to fend for yourselves for awhile. Don’t bother me, I’m very busy.”

The Timelord stuck his head back under the console and Amy and Rory exchanged looks.

“It’s your turn,” Amy said, knowing full well it wasn’t.

“It is not,” Rory said, knowing full well it wasn’t either.

“Rory, I want you,” the Doctor roared.

Rory sighed while Amy smiled triumphantly and made to leave the room. 

“Where are you headed?” Rory asked, trying to decide whether he should be really alarmed the Doctor wanted him or happy or just annoyed that Amy had won again.

“Shopping, of course,” Amy said. “I’ve had my eye on the second floor of the wardrobe for quite some time now. You boys have fun and don’t hurt each other.”

Amy walked off, secure in the knowledge that she was queen bee, and ready to be ensconced in fashion to her vast joy and delight.

Rory grabbed his book, which was luckily sitting on the floor, and prepared for a long morning of sitting, wearing goggles for absolutely no reason, and handing the Doctor things and then being yelled at for them not being the right ones.

“Rory!” the Doctor shouted, head popping up again. “Ror- oh, there you are. Very good. Right, so we’re going to be doing some manly work in here today. Amy’s shoved off, has she? Good. I wouldn’t want her miles within here, but, unfortunately, that just leaves you. What book is that? Oh, that’s a boring book. I’ll tell you the ending and save you the trouble; but, wait a minute, I need that spanner over there. Just give it to me. No, no, you thick human, it’s the round one with the squiggly edges. One would think you’d never seen an alien tool before.”

Rory had a brief thought about exactly what aliens he would call tools before he handed the Doctor the right instrument. The same thought evidently occurred to the Doctor because he popped up again and shook his head violently at Rory.

“Not supposed to say it?” Rory asked knowingly.

“It’d be rude!” the Doctor snapped, thinking that Rory had the really annoying habit of saying things the Doctor wished wouldn’t be said. 

Really, it was his top annoying thing, well, that and asking too many questions, well, that and being right, that and not being impressed by really very clever things.

Still, the Doctor would rather have Rory with him while working than not and thrust a pair of goggles at the man and continued his work, jabbering the whole time with really useful advice that he had the feeling Rory wasn’t listening to at all.

Rory was reading his book, which wasn’t boring at all, thank you, and somewhat enjoying, though he’d never tell him that, the Doctor’s anecdotes.

In fact time passed rather quickly for both of them though when Amy walked back into the room - having tried on approximately three hundred outfits and keeping one hundred and seventy of them - and announced she was starving, both of her boys were quite ready to take a break.

“I’ve got just the ticket,” the Doctor cried, whirling around the console, goggles half on and a long, likely-to-shock-people wire, trailing out of his pants. 

Rory gestured to Amy and she very begrudgingly stepped on it with her rubber soles as the Doctor danced past. This had the double benefit of disconnecting the wire from whatever it was hooked up to, negating the electricity threat, and pulling the Doctor up short making him look nearly as ridiculous as he was already making himself look.

“Pond success!” Amy said and slapped her husband a high five.

Rory returned it and the Doctor thought they were the smuggest, most irritable humans he’d ever met and told them so.

“I had a really lovely idea and now I’m not going to take you,” he said, folding his arms.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Amy said impatiently.

“You wouldn’t be able to bear not to,” Rory said. “Once you’ve set your mind up to impress…”

“You have to go through with it,” Amy finished.

The Doctor glared at them because they were right, but he wouldn’t admit it and instead took them to Argyle Five.

When the Tardis doors opened, it was onto a gorgeous, swooping view, with clouds and mountains and waterfalls and the most beautiful sky anyone would ever see this side of Gallifrey, green and blue with little gold flecks in the clouds.

There was a little ticket counter in front of them and while Amy and Rory struggled with grabbing coats and cameras and other silly human things, which they would say was only a testament to the awesomeness of the places he took them, the Doctor flashed the psychic paper at the be-tentacled alien behind the counter.

“One basket, please.”

The alien slithered something that sounded like:

“Welcome to paradise, enjoy your stay,” and handed over a large picnic basket.

The Doctor led them to a huge meadow in the valley between two mountains and spread out a large, red and white checked tablecloth on the grass.

“See, best picnic area in the galaxy. Look,” he said in glee, pulling out a large glass jar, “it even comes with its own ants. Authentic and thoughtful.”

“Let’s keep the ants where they are, yeah?” Amy said, sitting down, absolutely content now that she was going to eat again.

“This is amazing,” Rory said, turning around and around to look everywhere at once.

“I know,” the Doctor said. “Didn’t I promise you wonders? And ham sandwiches. Ooh, I hope there’s Jammy Dodgers in there. I requested them especially last time I was here.”

There were no Jammy Dodgers, but, other than that, it was looking like a very wonderful picnic.

Rory finally settled down, but spent his meal looking at the wonders around them as well as eating, which was a typical Rory thing to do. Amy, not really concerned with the beauty of the soul, contented herself with the beauty of the flesh, and tucked in with a relish. The Doctor was able to do both, as he smugly thought to himself.

Of course then, when they were mostly done and discussing the possibilities of a hike, there was a loud screeching sound behind them.

“Typical,” Rory said, putting down his third sandwich with a long-suffering sigh.

There was another loud screech and they all turned to see a woman advancing on them. She was tall and looked quite human but the odd thing about her – other than the really loud screaming – was her hair. It was put back into five different ponytails, each as thick as a normal ponytail, and they appeared to be moving on their own.

“Doctor, explain the independent hair that wants to kill us,” Rory said, moving in front of Amy and away from the creature all at the same time with a skill that could only come from being a time and space traveler/husband/sensible person who’d once been a plastic centurion for two thousand years. 

“She’s gone rogue,” the Doctor said, eying the woman with fascination. “Ooh, but isn’t she beautiful? The length of each of those tails is mind-boggling.”

One of said tails whipped forward nearly taking out the Doctor’s eye.

“Yeah, perhaps we could discuss the beauty a bit later,” Amy shouted, dodging another tail.

“She’s one of the infected ones,” the Doctor said, and they all still kept backing away. “Sometimes there’s a miniscule chance that the food can…do that. It’s all harmless and she’ll be back to herself in no time. Or never. Depending. Fifty fifty chance.”

“You mean that could happen to us?” Amy cried.

“Probably not, I mean, what are the chances, don't answer that. I don’t think there’s any cause for alarm,” the Doctor said, throwing himself into the side of the path out of the way of a vicious ponytail and wishing the tweed jacket had a bit more padding.

“You took us here knowing that could happen!” Rory shrieked, thinking perhaps that he should either start taking his sword with them places or getting some type of chip that detected whenever the Doctor was being ridiculous. 

Though that probably would be really distracting with it going off all the time and everything.

“Uh, rather off the point, Rory,” the Doctor said, thinking that Rory sounded remarkably similar to the woman currently trying to massacre them.

“I think it sort of is the point,” Rory yelled, picking up a fallen tree branch and defending the person of his wife, which is the sort of thing the Doctor could really get behind, though he wouldn’t have minded if perhaps Rory protected him too.

“I really think we should talk about this later,” the Doctor said.

“Oh, now you turn sensible,” Rory said, spotting the Tardis behind them.

Amy had been much too worried about the shrieking hair monster rushing them to partake in this conversation really but she did make a mental note to ask them to stop bickering and pay more attention to her.

“Snap your fingers or something,” she yelled at the Doctor whose fingers were currently wrapped up in a particularly virile bit of hair.

“Get my key out of my pocket,” Rory said. “I know you don’t have yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked snippily, but did as she was told.

“Like you’d ever remember your keys,” Rory said. “No matter the occasion or planet.”

“Like that time in Scottsdale,” the Doctor said, laughing a bit, tugging on his fingers, trying to get them free. “Really, Miss Hair-Bitey Person, that hurts! Or that time in the Mendors Nebula,” he tossed back at Amy.

Amy had begun to regret wishing they’d pay more attention to her, but she had also unlocked the Tardis door and ushered Rory inside and they both pulled on the Doctor as hard as they could and fell back inside all on top of each other, which was very uncomfortable for all of them. Especially Rory who was on the bottom and felt hands in places that really should only be touched by the hands of Amy.

“Sorry about the hands,” the Doctor said, shoving the doors shut, snagging one of the tails which continued to lash about as if in search for more prey.

He used the sonic to disconnect the hair and it fell limply to the floor while he went and got the Tardis ready to take off.

“Clean that up, will you, Amy?”

Amy turned to Rory who stared at her for a full five minutes before he finally went to get the broom. He was getting better at resisting anyway.

“You’re welcome,” he said broodily.

“Now we can never go there again,” the Doctor said, brooding practically in response. Timelords can brood like no other species. “I hope you’re happy.”

“And we could go there before because…?” Rory asked.

“Well, we didn’t litter,” the Doctor said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which to him it was. “They’re very down on littering and we didn’t get a chance to pick up after ourselves. Our pictures are probably being broadcast over the entire planet with a great big 'not welcome' in huge, red letters, all thanks to a little bad timing and a poorly digested picnic.”

“Right, well, I’m all keyed up, this little adventure got my energy pumping,” Amy announced, “so my husband and I are going to go back to our room and we’ll see you later.”

She grabbed Rory by the arm and pulled him along and he didn’t really resist at all for which neither he nor the Doctor could blame him. He did give a little apologetic shrug to the Doctor on his way past. For the Doctor’s part, he simply stood there for a minute or two with his mouth open feeling very annoyed.

“Right,” he said, staring, “I’ll just stay here then. Yes, right, well, I have things to do. And…” a grin started to play at the corners of his mouth “…I hope they’re ready for a rocky ride. After all, this is space and who knows what could happen!”

In their room Amy and Rory were very much making life rocky on their own and enjoying it immensely. Yet the further they went on, the harder it got and the rockier and the more actual shaking happened and as much as either of them would like to put it down to their own prowess they were pretty sure it was the Doctor’s revenge.

“Next time he wants some, see if he’s getting in my daughter’s pants,” Amy said.

Rory screwed up his face as he did at every mention of any kind of relationship between the Doctor and River. He was still getting used to this being a dad thing, but on no account was he anything less than one who never wanted his daughter to be around any male of any kind. Not that they knew anything was going on. It was all conjecture and spoilers and timey wimey guesses. Like the Doctor said, there were never any balloons flying or anything. The Doctor himself actually seemed rather horrified at the idea at times and Rory got the feeling Timelords didn’t really do things like that. It was really confusing

“Oh, stop being so squeamish,” Amy said, managing to bite and kiss him at the same time, something she was rather proud of, and something else amid the myriad of other things in life he was quite confused over, but enjoyed nevertheless.

“I suppose we ought to get back to him,” Rory said as a particularly violent quake ended with him on the floor and a naked Amy on top of him. 

Not that he minded that at all.

“Not before I’m done,” Amy growled, bending over him again. 

Again, with him not minding at all.

In the console main room the Doctor smiled again and rocked the Tardis as everything came to one big halt for every occupant of said ship.

Then there was a very loud beeping noise and a kind of watery sound and some screeching again.

“Uh, that’s not good. Very not good,” the Doctor said, looking at the scanners. “Amy, Rory!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “Get dressed and get down here, mind the giant octopus.”

Rory and Amy looked at each other from their sated slump and Rory blinked wearily.

“Did he say giant octopus?”

“I hope not,” Amy said, struggling into her clothes. “If he’s landed us on Octupus World or something like that, I’m gonna kill him.”

“It’s slithering or floating or swimming or whatever you want to call it,” the Doctor could be heard yelling. “It’s formed its own water supply bubble. It’s got its own camouflage unit. Oh, it’s genius. I must ask it how it does that.”

“Doctor, what’s going on?” Amy asked as she and Rory, half-dressed, made their way into the console room.

“You’re okay!” he shouted, hugging them both. “You’ve not been inked and dragged off to its lair!”

“Lair?” Rory asked at the same time as Amy said.

“Inked?”

“Aren’t we in the Tardis?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” Amy asked Rory. “Of course we’re in the Tardis.”

“Just checking since last time I looked there weren’t any giant octopi on board,” he said venomously.

“Check again,” the Doctor said, flipping switches like mad. “I knew I should’ve put that on the brochure, very large aquarium, don’t feed the octopi.”

“You’ve got an aquarium?” Amy asked.

Rory was just as confused.

“I’ve got everything,” the Doctor said impatiently. “I would’ve thought that was obvious. Now, are you two ready for an undersea adventure?”

“Why?” Rory asked nervously.

“Cause we’re about to go underwater,” the Doctor said, flinging them little bottles and tubes that Rory supposed were some type of breathing apparatus. 

They fumbled with putting them on, Rory getting it first and then Amy, and not a second too soon because a wave of water rushed into the console room and overwhelmed them.

“It’s escaped,” the Doctor mouthed to them, which they did not see due to the being-very-knocked-head-over-heels-and-underwater part of their day.

He sighed and decided to communicate telepathically from then on which he did, causing Rory to jump, even underwater

He directed them to the left and they all swam down for about fifty feet along the corridors to where there were some large valves which they all had to turn. Amy and Rory really had no idea what was going on apart from the eerie fact that the Doctor was talking to them in their minds and Rory really hoped the Doctor wasn’t doing any rummaging around while he was in there.

The water levels receded with the valve twisting and soon they were all standing in the corridors, dripping wet, and, flopping beside them, was the biggest octopus that Rory and Amy had ever seen. 

“Just in time,” the Doctor said, running his hand through his hair, then shaking it like a dog and sprinkling drops of water all over his already soaking companions causing them to glare at him. “Being onboard must have evolved its brain to monumental levels, almost like mine. Oh, and it was a bit hungry, poor thing. I’ve really got to see about dropping it off. I’ve been meaning to for ages, but it always ends up not being a very good planet and then it doesn’t much like what it's got to eat and who could blame it and I really wouldn’t get too close-”

He said it too late as Amy had already bent over and gently nudged one of the tentacles. A burst of ink gushed out of the sea creature and exploded onto all three of them causing them to feel very disorientated and dirty.

“-they squirt,” finished the Doctor lamely.

“I am not taking the blame for this,” Rory told the Doctor. “This is all on you, mate.”

“It’s her fault for poking it,” the Doctor cried.

“I’m sorry, aren’t I?” Amy cried right back. “Now I’m covered in squid ink-“

“Octopus,” Rory and the Doctor corrected.

“-and smell absolutely disgusting. This is almost as bad as the whale vomit.”

“Right, that was nasty,” the Doctor said. “But good fun too, remember the children…?”

Amy glared at him. 

“You, go and take that poor thing back where it belongs and we’re going to go get cleaned up.”

The Doctor stuck out his tongue at her but did as instructed, because, after all, the escaped aquatic creature did need to get back in some water and rather quickly.

“We’ll take a little swim, girl,” he said, having decided the octopus was of the female gender, getting out his sonic and setting it to hover and mentally apologizing to the Tardis who was acting very upset about being all wet. 

He didn’t blame her, not really.

Meanwhile Rory caught up with Amy who was almost to their bedroom.

“So, when you said _we_ were getting cleaned up…”

“No,” Amy said, shutting the door in his face.

Rory grimaced, but reflected that ink was not really the most romantic of things to have on his skin when desiring a shower with his wife.

“I’ll just use the other one then,” he said.

“Good thinking,” she yelled back, rolling her eyes at her ink covered reflection and chuckling a little.

Rory got showered and cleaned up in record time and Amy wasn’t even done with her hair yet. He went to find the Doctor and finally saw the aquarium and it was enormous and the Doctor was swimming with all the creatures inside and though it was beautiful Rory would be absolutely terrified to do the same and at least the Doctor was getting clean. Sort of. The Doctor saw him and grinned, waving and pointing at himself, trying to get Rory to see what he was doing.

Rory smiled and waved back then noticed that there were cracks in the glass, deftly patched with what looked like chewing gum and duct tape. He mentally reminded himself that the Doctor knew what he was doing, probably, maybe, hopefully, and then left. Despite them having quite a good lunch, he been doing nothing but physical activity since then, pleasant or otherwise, and decided to start dinner. The kitchen was still absolutely a mess, but he cleaned up a huge section of it, the Tardis evidently having decided to section off the really bad parts, and got right down to making an absolute feast for dinner, hunger and a fear of the other two’s cooking abilities, winning over fear of the Tardis unknown.

Rory wasn’t good at a lot of things, well, he actually was, in fact, he was good at practically everything, but he could really cook. So he did. He made a scrumptious repast for them all and explored the kitchen more than he’d ever dared to before.

Amy had finished her shower and spent an exceptionally long time checking for subsea liquids of any kind on her person before smelling some really good things. Leaving their room she found her husband in the kitchen doing weird and wonderful things with a frying pan.

“Remind me why you let me marry you,” she said, kissing his cheek and stepping in to stir while he whirled away to do a dance that she thought was actually rather like the Doctor’s when he was doing something clever with the console.

“Because I know you like to be well-fed at all times,” he answered. "I'm the soul of compassion."

“That and you’re not bad-looking either,” she said, patting his bum on his way past.

He gave her a look and she almost wanted to knock everything out of his hands then and there, but she was awfully hungry.

Rory had been betting on hunger winning out in the end, but that didn’t stop him from planning for later.

The Doctor entered the kitchen with wet hair, but bowtie erect, rubbing his hands.

“Right, now, I bet you’re hungry and I know this great restaurant. The best in three galaxies and you’ll never want to eat-“ the Doctor stopped as he saw everything ready and Rory, with a napkin over his arm, ushering Amy into a seat. “Right, so eating in, okay. I can do that. It might be edible. I don’t think Rory would poison me. Probably.”

And they had a lovely dinner during which nobody was poisoned and, even more surprisingly, nobody was attacked, and everybody got to finish eating and even have seconds if they wanted it. Just Rory’s kind of night and Amy didn’t really mind and, while the Doctor had considered using the sonic to set off some kind of explosion under Rory’s pot roast, he hadn’t.

When it was over Rory got up to do the clean up, but Amy plucked the dishes out of his arms.

“You did all the work,” she told him. “Now go and make yourself lazy while the Doctor and I earn our keep.”

“You sure?” Rory asked worriedly, watching the way she was flinging food around as she scraped the dishes.

“I know you wanted to catch up on your _Top Gear_ ,” she told him, “now get lost, stupid.”

Rory left, feeling slightly anxious, but admittedly wanting to watch his show. He settled in the cinema, silently asked the Tardis to somehow let him know if there was some kind of emergency, and thoroughly enjoyed himself.

In the kitchen Amy and the Doctor had a bit of an argument over who would wash and who would dry and it was settled when the Doctor’s slippery hands dropped a plate and broke it. He was a tad grumpy after that but settled for expressing his opinion of irritation by blowing soap bubbles at Amy and then she twisted her towel and snapped it at him and he complained a lot. He was such a baby, Amy thought fondly.

But they managed to get three heaping bowls of ice cream in to Rory at the cinema without too much mishap which was good and they turned on a film.

Rory and Amy snuggled into each other on the sofa while the Doctor stretched out on the floor. It wasn’t that much of a success because the Doctor kept popping up to pinch pillows and change his position and fiddle with the sound, complaining it wasn’t loud enough. All he actually managed to do was make the picture wobbly and Rory had to try and fix it and the Doctor snagged his seat on the couch and then Rory had to fight to get it back. The Doctor acquiesced badly and the rest of the film was spent in absolute confusion by Rory and Amy since they’d missed a good deal of the middle. The Doctor assured them they weren’t missing anything.

Of course after the movie the Doctor had been in one place for far too long so he ushered them into the console room and made them close their eyes while he took them someplace. He wanted to make it really spectacular for them because it really had been a dull day and he felt bad for that. He'd promised them wonder, excitement, and adventure and today had only produced mutated hair snake women and jailbreaking octopi.

Rory was very apprehensive and kept peeking while the Doctor told him to stop it and finally made Amy hold her hands over Rory’s eyes.

And when they opened the Tardis doors it was all worth it. They were on top of a peak that the Doctor said was the highest in the universe, but atmospherically controlled to have air and heat.

“That’s what you humans do, after all,” he said, leading them out, wearing coats because it still was a bit nippy. “You explore and you adapt what won’t suit you until it does. Because you’ve always got to see what else is out there and know what you’re missing. And you wonder why I take you along.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Amy said, grasping his hand. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s amazing,” Rory said, and if it would have made any sense to either of them, he would’ve grasped the Doctor’s other hand.

They lay down on one blanket and put another over them and watched the frosty stars zoom overhead. It was absolutely beautiful, being so close it was almost like they could touch them. The constellations, so foreign from those on earth, twinkled and burned and some were satellites and ships and there were different colors, but mostly it was just a vast diamond canvas with lights glowing and streaking and wheeling overhead in all their brilliant array.

“A starry night to remember,” Amy said and the Doctor squeezed her hand in remembrance.

Rory put his arm around her and she snuggled into his shoulder.

They stayed there for a few hours until Amy fell asleep and Rory carried her back into the Tardis. She woke up a little when they were inside.

“Are we leaving, no,” she moaned into his neck and he grinned.

The Doctor nodded his head toward the stairs.

“Go on, take her up. After all, tomorrow’s a big day, lots of things to do. Get some sleep. Or not. Or sleep. All whatever you choose. Have fun. Sleeping. Or not.”

“Shut up, you daft alien,” Amy mumbled.

Rory smiled down at her and whispered his thanks and good night to the Doctor.

The Doctor grinned and looked down at his Tardis.

“Now then, old girl, what shall we do?”

Rory gently laid Amy in bed, pulling off her shoes and coat and pants. She woke up a bit more and pulled him closer to her. He undressed himself and slid into bed next to her, inhaling the smell of her octopus ink-less hair and kissed her forehead, relishing the feel of the bed and her in his arms and the fact that they were both not dead and able to sleep and had had a good day.

“Night, Amy.”

She snored in response.


End file.
